


Temporary

by orphan_account



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual Sex, First Time, M/M, Masochism, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:58:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7623166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiki gives in to Izaya, who's been coming on to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temporary

**Author's Note:**

> This is my personal headcanon over who Izaya's first time and first sexual relationship was with, I imagine if it happened it played out something like this. 
> 
> Also, it's my first time writing Shiki and also Shikizaya so if it's a bit (or a lot) out of character I apologize ahead of time.

It started with pushing, as it always does. Pushing people, testing their limits-- it’s Izaya’s favorite game aside the amalgam of go and chess and cards and whatever else he happens to have on hand, it’s a game Izaya’s very familiar with as the rules are his own and the winner can only be declared under his guidance. This type of pushing, however, he’s not familiar with in the least, though he wants to be, knows he won’t and can’t because of who he is, and it’s who he is that causes him to push anyway, to not fold though he knows the other has a royal flush. It’s losing game he doesn’t know the rules to, all too similar to an adult allowing a child to trump them in Monopoly, to an expert placating a rookie by giving him the advantage; it was all to forgo wounded feelings, something Izaya had never been in favor of. Only, now, it’s was feelings that were being spared, and yet Izaya played on.

He had always had a crude sense of humor, from kidding about death and suicide and murder to triggering phobias and hamartias and self-consciousness, Izaya had no qualms about causing grievances for humor’s sake, as it often satiated his boredom temporarily. Innuendos, on the other hand, had never been in his taste or forte; suggestivism and flirtatiousness were as  foreign a concept as dog’s minds, and indeed there was an intrinsic animalistic quality to lust and desires he was cognitively aware of. Loathe to admit it though he was, he wasn’t exempt from the more-than human experience of wishing intimacy in a sexual form, though as often as he repeated it was  _ simply hormones, just hormones,  _ he was surely convinced it was his body that longed for the experience, and not his mind. 

Yes, he was simply indulging his lower half, it was his lower half that attracted him to a certain individual, nevermind it was his brain that strategized seduction and sensuality. There was no other explanation for what drove him towards  _ want _ , that propelled him towards making the remarks he made or attempting temptation such as he did.

Often, his increasingly obscene comments are left untouched by Shiki; a momentary silence before the man continues the conversation as though Izaya had made no such remark at all. There’s an occasional cough or an ever-rare glare, but never so much as a blush or a twitch of a vein or an eye. Certainly the yakuza executive is aware of his advances; he is by no means subtle, at first vocalizing observances such as how “Shiki-san’s shirt complements his figure” or that “Shiki-san is well-built and and active, he must be strong,” then progressing to questions regarding his  _ exercise  _ regimen, lewdness hot on Izaya’s tongue (this earns him a scowl from the older man, a side-eyed look of perturbedness that he responds to with a grin of false innocence befitting that of a five-year old who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.) It’s not until the comments concerning “how  _ lucky  _ Shiki-san’s girlfriend must be to have a man such as him” that Izaya gets a response, wholly unexpected and not unpleasant.

Shiki, hunched over a low table covered in photographs of rival yakuza groups in Tokyo Izaya has supplied him, pauses to extinguish his cigarette before standing abruptly, striding over to where Izaya is leaning his shoulder against the wall in all attempt of casualness, closing the proximity between them to the point Izaya begins to frown; Shiki’s right hand slams against the wall centimeters away from the younger man’s shoulder, he opens his mouth to either question the other’s actions or make a joke out of them, he hasn’t decided which yet, when he feels rough, chapped lips against his own, pressing not chaste but roughly against them in a forcefulness that Izaya would have never expected out of his first kiss, but is entirely in-character for his employer and pleasurable enough his eyes flutter shut, only to have Shiki cease kissing him. Izaya’s hand pauses in tentative reach for the other’s waist; he’s not sure where exactly to position his hands while kissing someone, though it no longer seems to be a pressing issue as to where he should place them.

Face flushed, Izaya glances up at Shiki. He’s certain confusion is radiating from him as well as heat, though it was simply a kiss. The man looking down at him shows no such telltale signs of want or excitement; his stoicism hasn’t given, though from Izaya’s angle his lips seem softer and less harsh, as do his eyes. 

When Shiki speaks, his tone has lost its sternness as well. Instead, the slight angle of his head suggests contemplativeness, uncertainty. “This is what you wanted, or am I wrong?”

Nodding not so fast as to seem eager, Izaya parts his lips ever so slightly, eyes blinking themselves shut once more as Shiki leans in. The friction returns, harsh and unwavering as Shiki parts Izaya’s lips with his own, kissing him with all the expertise Izaya doesn’t possess, though he attempts to follow, licking against the other’s lips after a few moments and allowing his tongue to enter his mouth, pressing against its roof and then turning and twining with his own. Shiki kisses fiercely and aggressively, though Izaya doesn’t mind; he knows the other knows it’s what he wants and when the man pauses to suck at Izaya’s bottom lip and then drag at it with teeth, he all but whimpers at the sensation, a short moan coming from the back of his throat. Licking over the skin he has just damaged, Shiki’s tongue continues to turn together with Izaya’s, and when calloused hands rest themselves at his hip he doesn’t flinch, simply arches off the wall into the contact he’s so unused to and desperate for. His own hand comes to grasp at the collar of Shiki’s shirt as the other untucks his own from his jeans and presses a surprisingly warm hand to the bare skin of his waist, cupping it and pressing his thumb against Izaya’s hipbone. 

A gasp sounds from Izaya at the sensation of skin-on-skin; he breathes air into the other’s mouth, unaware he’s tightening his grip on Shiki’s shirt in order to pull him closer, only realizing when he feels a leg in between his own, a thigh forcing friction against his groin where’s he’s becoming hard and harder, straining against his jeans at the sudden pressure. He’s sure it’s not gone unnoticed by Shiki, and it’s confirmed that the other has noticed when he exerts more force against Izaya’s cock, angling his thigh back and forth in such a way the stimulation is nearly too much for Izaya, who lets out another whimper, and despite the fact he’s becoming overwhelmed, a moan as a plea for more. Unmeaningly, he bucks his hips into the pressure, having since lost focus on reciprocating the kiss, though Shiki’s teeth continue to graze Izaya’s lips, tongue still working with Izaya’s inside the latter’s mouth. The older man, in response to Izaya’s repeated noises of pleasure, backs him up against the wall once more, grinding his thigh against Izaya’s clothed cock until his moans become louder and his cants against the other’s leg become increasingly desperate. His cock is uncomfortable hard, begging for stimulation and attention, and, perhaps sensing this fact or experiencing the same himself, Shiki breaks the kiss, grating a near-raw patch of skin on Izaya’s lower lip one last time before pulling away.

Izaya’s breathing is coming quickly, as though he’s just run across all of Ikebukuro, though he quickly pushes the metaphor to the back of his mind in focus of the similarly out-of-breath man in front of him. Shiki’s pupils are dilated, though likely not as dilated as his own, his lips red and beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s attractive, extremely so, and Izaya feels his cock twitch in his pants at the prospect of going further with the older, more experienced, and quite definitely handsome man in front of him. He’s most definitely never found the other unattractive, else he wouldn’t have come on to him in such a way, but now that he has seen this side of Shiki, has caught a scent of his sweat and tasted his kiss, he knows it’s going to be difficult to see him any other way, though he’s sure that with time he’ll be able to. After all, even if an affair such as this continues, it won’t last forever-- Shiki, though gratified with a young partner with a pretty face, is giving Izaya what he wants, and nothing more. Izaya realizes this, knows he can stop the momentum before it becomes too late, and yet when Shiki asks him with a dead-serious, no-nonsense expression if he’s sure he wants to continue, Izaya breathes out a “yes,  _ please” _ so full of want and longing he almost doesn’t recognize his voice.

And so Shiki removes his hand from against Izaya’s waist and the other from the wall, reaches down to undo Izaya’s belt and unthread it from the loops of Izaya’s jeans, pushing the pants down til they fall around Izaya’s ankles in folds of pure black. His cock is freed from the denim, there’s a small stain of pre-cum dark even against the black of his boxer-briefs, but Izaya doesn’t dare touch it though he longs to, kicks off his shoes instead and as Shiki steps back to allow him space, bends down to free himself of his socks. He waits for the other man to touch him first, waits til Shiki has stepped out of his own pants and discarded his own footwear, left only in a pair of grey boxers with a prominent bulge. From what Izaya can tell, Shiki’s cock is rather large, though not absurdly so, and exhilaration thrums down Izaya’s spine at the prospect of it being inside of him, at the likelihood of the immediate pain and subsequent pleasure it will cause. 

When Shiki brushes his thumb against the very tip of Izaya’s still-clothed cock, roughened fingers wrapping around the shaft and squeezing lightly, Izaya can’t help but thrust into the contact with rapid force, letting out a strangle “ah” when Shiki begins stroking to the base, returning to the head only to slide down once more. Biting his lip as to not moan too loudly, as they’re in the Awakusu-kai’s building, Izaya’s hands scramble for not-found purchase against the smoothness of the wall; he’s attempting to quiet his vocalizations, though doing a quite poor job of it, and when he glances at Shiki’s face, sees the smallest of smug grins pulling at the corner of the other’s lips, he loses his composure and lets out a low, breathy mixture of a sigh and a moan, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments to submit to the sensation of the hand around his cock dragging slow motion from base to tip. And for a moment, before he can slam the door of the thought in his mind, it’s not Shiki’s fingers around his cock, it’s someone else’s-- though he knows the person he wishes they belonged to possesses larger, thicker, stronger ones than Shiki. Within seconds he’s rid of the thought, focusing on the present, on Shiki and Shiki’s touch and Shiki’s scent and the leftover taste of Shiki on his tongue and lips. It’s not enough to coax him to orgasm, and he opens his eyes at the loss of pleasure as the other removes his hand, leaving Izaya for a moment with only the support of the wall to help him stand despite his weakening knees and unstable legs. 

Izaya doesn’t question why, exactly, Shiki has lube and condoms in a locked cabinet of his office in the Awakusu-kai, isn’t really surprised when it comes down to it he thinks as the other returns with said items in hand, placing them on the floor as he stands a footsteps’ away from Izaya, studying him, though not in such a way Izaya begins to feel immediately self-conscious of the fact he’s near-nude, hard, and about to have sex with his employer. He’s aware of these things, yet doesn’t mind them, due perhaps to his low moral standards or the heat of the moment or both or neither, he isn’t sure, doesn’t care. 

“This is your first time?” Shiki’s tone is non-judgemental, though Izaya’s sure the other already knows the answer, could feel and taste his inexperience and virginity in his submission and kiss. 

“Yes.” It’s meant to come out as a challenge, taunting as his words characteristically are in means of assertion, of reminder he hasn’t lost himself to the heat and want, the burning kisses and touches and the desirability of the other. Rather, the words escape his lips as though partially obstructed, trembling as his legs are, and Izaya so desperately wants to turn the clock back mere seconds in do-over of his response; he knows how it would come across were he to repeat himself now-- bravado tailing fear, and he’d much rather condemn responsibility of his mind’s fogginess to the haze of sex and desire than the anxiety or embarrassment his tone displays.

Shiki simply nods in response, and before Izaya’s eyes begins to kneel down; he tugs at the waistband of Izaya’s boxers, inching them down his thighs with a single hand while grasping the bottle of lube now adjacent to his knees with the other. Though he attempts to, Izaya fails to prevent the shudder overtaking his body at the duality of temperatures his cock is now exposed to-- the warmth of Shiki’s breath and the cool of the room save for their immediate area. Through half-lidded eyes Izaya glances down at Shiki, finding the other immersed in coating his fingers with the lubricant, attention momentarily dissuaded from the flushed thickness Izaya can now see for itself. As if the older man is able to feel Izaya’s gaze against him, hot as it is, Shiki tilts his chin upward to meet the burning dark of Izaya’s eyes with the slightly-less smoldering fire of his own, and, maintaining contact with them, tongues the side of Izaya’s cock from head to base and back again. 

There’s no success in stifling the sound Izaya next makes, no suppressing the whimper of desperation and pleasure that resonates from high up and far back in his throat and is expelled forcibly, enough so Izaya’s lips open to give access to the moan passing through them. His hips jerk in answer to Shiki’s tongue’s calling and it returns itself first to the tip of Izaya’s cock and next to Shiki’s mouth as the man coaxes Izaya’s back from the wall, bracing his thigh with a dry hand and making movement towards his ass with a slick one.

It’s a sensation he’s entirely unaccustomed to, having never experienced it himself before in his few and far between masturbation sessions that often end in his heart and his cock both aching from his fantasies and too-fast, too-harsh movements that betray his desire to finish himself as quickly and roughly as possible. Shiki is gentle, however, establishing a repetitive cycle of his lubed index finger circling Izaya’s entrance and pressing ever so slightly against it several times before he attempts insertion. The feeling of a finger inside of him is surprisingly not entirely unpleasant; there’s a stretch, certainly, but little pain, and he begins to relax around it after a moment of Shiki leaving his finger inside Izaya in attempt to have him grow accustomed to it. Gradually, the man begins to remove it from inside of Izaya, slowly re-inserting the moment his second knuckle makes contact with the air humid from arousal-caused sweat. Despite the painstakingly unhurried process of Shiki preparing him, Izaya is panting, head slumped forward as the man lets his finger exit further and further before pushing it to re-enter Izaya with a moderate, steady rhythm increasing in pace with each thrust. Though he knows it’s necessary to prevent damage and pain, Izaya doesn’t find himself particularly worried about either, instead becoming impatient for the older man to put his own cock inside Izaya and fuck him heedlessly. This is his employer, however, and whether it’s because he doesn’t wish to harm Izaya on a personal or business level, though likely it’s both at this moment in time, as Izaya is months away from his twentieth birthday and still a virgin, Shiki is paying particular attention to adequately prepare Izaya and not cause him any harm. Perhaps with a different partner Izaya would rock his hips back against the other’s finger and demand them be faster and harder, do  _ more  _ and  _ sooner,  _ but Shiki has fierce punishment against insubordination, and Izaya can bare to be patient with the man who’s doing him an extremely unprofessional favor in adherence to the other’s values. 

A second finger flexes itself at his entrance, pushing its way into Izaya with slightly more resistance than the first had, and Izaya gasps at the strain. Both fingers are inside of him to their last knuckle, he can feel them against his walls as Shiki separates them every so slightly to scissor them apart and together. Certainly Izaya is moaning once more, he can hear his own pleasured noises as Shiki draws out his fingers and slides them back inside Izaya repeatedly; Izaya’s breathlessness is increasing, patience thinning, and when Shiki finally curves and scissors his fingers his fingers to brush against Izaya’s prostate, he can’t help but groan “please,  _ fuck _ me,” in a more lewd, desperate voice than he himself would have thought he could ever produce. He’s shaking, struggling to remain upright against the wall as Shiki, below him, crooks his fingers one last time before pulling out, leaving Izaya to feel horribly open and empty-- he’s more than ready for Shiki’s cock to fill the void his fingers have left, his own twitching in the prospect of it. Senses overloaded, Izaya’s energy is nearly entirely consumed in attempt to remain upright as Shiki releases his grip on his leg in order to tear open the condom and re-open the bottle to pour excess lube onto his hand. As he rolls on the condom and coats his cock with the fluid, Izaya is vaguely aware the other’s hasn’t received any attention thus far, though any inklings of guilt are soon replaced with eager anticipation as the man steps out of his boxers, leaving the two only clad in their shirts and Izaya’s jacket, which he has just enough consciousness to remove as not to ruin it.

Shiki’s hands grip Izaya’s thighs, hoisting him up the wall as Izaya’s only support until they are at level height; he’s surprised to find the other’s eyes clouded with arousal as he’s sure his own are. The realization he had done this to the other, he had caused this expression on Shiki’s face combined with the prospect of what is soon to come sends his heart racing; there’s a slight moment of vertigo as Shiki tips Izaya’s hips forward, leaving only his back to be pressed flush against the wall. And then he feels it, the slickness of the tip of Shiki’s cock at his entrance, though there’s hesitation-- Shiki’s eyes on Izaya are silently asking for confirmation, and he once more begs “please” before Shiki rolls his hips back and enters him.

It’s only the head, but Shiki is larger than the two fingers he had been fucking Izaya with and the stretch is enough to cause Izaya’s head to tilt back and elicit a gasp from him, though in seconds he’s moaning for more and Shiki is obliging, sliding further inside. The angle isn’t enough for Shiki to bury himself fully in of Izaya, and abandoning his submission Izaya sinks down the wall and lowers himself onto Shiki’s dick fast and hard until he can feel even the last centimeters inside. Before even Shiki begins to move, Izaya is raising and lowering his hips, fucking himself in Shiki’s cock roughly enough for it to be somewhat painful, though he’s perhaps enjoying it more because of the ache. Shiki, likely sensing Izaya’s impatience, starts to thrust, guiding his inexperienced and sloppy pace to a quick and steady rhythm with his own movements, angling Izaya’s hips with precision and expertise until Izaya cries out upon Shiki’s cock hitting the sensitive spot inside of him. He’s all but riding Shiki while the man is pulling out near completely before thrusting back in and the sensation of being filled so completely and stretched so widely, of the heat inside him is ecstasy, and he finds himself closing his eyes to submit fully to the sensation, momentarily forgetting who he’s with as his hand reaches for his cock between them and begins to stroke. Between his own hip movements and Shiki’s thrusts, Izaya knows of the soreness that awaits him tomorrow, though it’s not tomorrow, it’s now, and before he can stop himself he’s moaning a single syllable, “shi-.” He bites his tongue to stop the name before it can exit his throat; it’s bleeding now but he can imagine it’s the other’s work rather than his own. Each of Shiki’s thrusts are becoming more vigorous; Izaya is lowering his hips to meet Shiki’s with such force he can feel the bruises forming, and moments later he’s crying out and spilling into his own hand.

His mind gives into pure pleasure as he comes; he’s dimly aware of the over-stimulation to his prostate as Shiki continues to fuck him though Izaya has ceased lowering his hips, and as his orgasm wracks through his body he feels himself clench against Shiki’s cock reactively, hears the barest hint of a pleasured gasp from the other at the tightness. Izaya’s head has lolled to the side slightly, his breathing is coming heavy though his heart has begun its descent in beats per minute, and though he has come already he feels his cock twitch in readiness to harden once more at Shiki’s continued thrusts. Moments later, however, he feels an excess of heat inside him and is sure Shiki has just come, more than confirmed by his similarly labored breaths and pants. Izaya feels the other’s cock become soft as the man pulls out, and once more he’s left feeling empty and and open.

Izaya slumps to the ground, spent, while Shiki, miraculously still standing, pulls off the used condom, striding back toward the cabinet to return with a box of kleenex. The two are silent aside their breathing as they wipe themselves down and dress. There isn’t much anything to say; Izaya considers thanking the other, though he supposes the possible impoliteness and definite awkwardness would outweigh any benefits it might award.

He’s preparing to leave, making all attempts to walk without limping despite the ache, when Shiki coughs. Turning around, he sees an extended arm and he wrinkles his brow in confusion of why the other man could possibly want to shake hands. Then he sees the paper, a small slip with writing scrawled on it; he can pick out numbers along the letters. Izaya moves to accept it, squinting to decipher the handwriting he supposes is a phone number, though he already has Shiki’s business phone number and he can’t imagine any reason for the man to give him a personal line, when he sees a familiar street name. It’s Shiki’s address.

“Don’t abuse this,” are the man’s parting words to Izaya.

He’s unsure whether he’ll make personal use of it, though he has suspicions he’ll find himself there one way or another, looking for more.  


End file.
